Fairytale
by silvergirl1000
Summary: Their love was like a fairytale; literally. America finds himself in a series of fairytales that involve him and mostly Russia. No idea how he got here or how to get back, he tries to get through them all. Yaoi, RussiaxAmerica, some crack pairings
1. Hansel and Gretel

**Disclaimer:** Me and own anything? Pffff, yeah right XDD No own nothing!

**Warnings:** Yaoi (boyXboy); fairytales; Russia; in some cases there might be character deaths; nation names used (but real names too sometimes); in some chapters Prussia, Belarus and Romano; language; eventual RusAm

A/N: This story came to me when I was reading fairytales~! 8D Hah, yeah, anyway, as you can see, it's got fairytales in it, but America isn't an actual character. That means; he sometimes plays as the main character, but has no idea what's going on. Practically, he knows about the fairytales (most of them anyway) and knows what to do there, but has no recollection of how he got there in the first place. Haha, confused yet? Yeah, me too~!

Every chapter will have a different fairytale and it will gradually work up to being a RusAm story. In the end though, America will surely return to his own place and time. I guarantee it! :D Not too sure about how America will feel about Russia then, but meh... we'll see!

**Fairytale**

**Chapter 1 - Hansel and Gretel**

"Ow, owowowow... Okay, I guess waking up today isn't an option." America wished he could stay in this bed forever; his entire body felt like hell and he didn't feel like going to the meeting today. It wouldn't be the first time he'd miss a meeting after all; on some days he forgets to put the alarm clock on, to finally wake up at 4 pm, when the meeting is over. Today he didn't really care if he would be late. After all, he'll get up soon... sometime... in the near future anyway.

Life wasn't so kind to him, as he felt something shake him, trying to get him awake. "Syestra, syestra! Wake up! Mama wants us to help her."

America pushed the offending hand away and whined, "I feel tired! Just a few more minutes." ...Did he just say _mama?_

"Syestra, please. Mama will be angry." America was starting to awaken the more the other person talked. His voice sounded gentle, but also... childish.

"Russia." America growled, eyes still closed and back turned to the other, "Get out of my house. It's still too early for the meeting." Had he actually bothered to look at the clock, he would've seen that it was half past twelve at the moment.

"Syestra, mama will come looking for us soon. She will get angry, da."

America, finally understanding that sleep wasn't an option anymore, rubbed his eyes and sat up. He stared at Russia blankly, half-wondering what the other nation was doing here and half-wondering why he looked so... different. He was wearing a grey old shirt and blue shorts with _holes_ in them. America felt a cold shiver run down his spine the further he examined the other. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks and his silver-blonde hair was smudged and messy. And he suddenly looked awfully young too.

"R-Russia, what happened?" America was in shock. Why did Russia look like that? What happened? A war that left him in such a bad situation? Economy crisis?

Russia blinked and said, "Mama is waiting for us. Get dressed quickly, da?" He stood up and left, leaving America very confused. It was then that America noticed where he was. A hut of some sort... and he had no idea where the hell this was. It looked so worn out and battered that it couldn't be called a house anymore.

Finding nothing but a dirty old dress, America put it on. He didn't really like it, but he had no other choice when he looked around. Still wondering about the conversation he'd had with Russia, he made his way outside. It was sunny and quite beautiful, but what really got America's attention was England. He wasn't small, like Russia, but rather looked like America remembered him; in his right size (because America refuses to call him tall), but he too was wearing old, battered clothes. He was chopping down trees nearby.

America's eyes traveled to see that Russia and another woman (quite tall) were helping him collect the wood together in a large pile.

He didn't get to stare too much, as the woman turned around and yelled, "America, come here! Honestly, sleeping the whole day away when you could be helping us bring the bread on table." Now that America saw the woman, he recognised her as Hungary.

_No way! Hungary as Engand's wife?! Hah!_ America almost laughed out loud. He didn't actually know if Hungary was England's wife or not, but the way things were, it sure looked like it.

"Oi, England! Finally decided to get married huh? Didn't think you'd choose anyone besides France." He yelled, holding his stomach from the laughter. He stopped when he saw the glare England sent him though, clearly saying '_Another word and you're gonna wish you were never attached to your leg'_. Hungary, not really paying attention to what America was saying, said, "Stop talking nonsense and come quickly! We barely have anything to eat, so we must work extra hard."

Mildly curious about this whole situation, America went to the others and started to help them collect the wood in a pile. A few hours later America started to feel slightly tired and asked, "Na, England, I wanna eat something for breakfast." He stared up at England expectantly and then noticed something. Like the fact that he was staring_ up_ at England, rather than down to him. He blinked and looked over himself, finding himself roughly the size of Russia right now. It puzzled him beyond belief and was about to ask something about it, when Hungary cut him off, "You missed breakfast because of your sleeping. It's time for lunch." Hungary said curtly and took a glance at England, who finally stopped his chopping.

England smiled, crouched down to America and pat him on the head, saying, "We have only one more loaf of bread left, America. I'm sorry we don't have more, but try to share with your brother, okay?" He stared at the other two fondly and said, "Let's take a break then, if America feels so weary. After all, he hasn't even eaten breakfast yet."

America was still curious about what was going on and was about to ask England what was going on, when he saw Hungary again. No, he wouldn't like Hungary overhearing what he was talking to England. His next choice was Russia, who wasn't so tall that he'd have to yell out loud, so he leaned closer to him and quietly asked, "Na, Russia, what's going on? Why are England and Hungary acting like a married couple and why are we two so young?"

Russia stared at America, confused, before he said, "What are you talking about, America? Don't you remember? Ever since papa married that woman, we've been poor. And what do you mean by young?" Russia cocked his head to the side and stared at America silently.

America stared at Russia and said, "What do you mean by that? Last thing I remember was that... huge economy crisis and... everything just went wrong." He frowned. He couldn't really remember anything else.

"Syestra, I think you are still too tired. Come on, let's go eat lunch and go back to work.

...What does syestra mean anyway?!

-

-

-

It was night time. America was lying in a bed he, supposedly, shared with Russia who was, supposedly, his older brother. This whole thing seemed so out of place. Like something out of a fairy tale. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity though. That is, until he heard Hungary begin speaking from hers and England's bed. There was no wall between them and America, and even though Hungary was whispering, he heard everything quite clearly.

"England. We have only half a bread left. We have to do something and quick. Soon we will die like this."

"Hungary, what do you suggest we do?"

America turned his head to see that Russia was awake too, listening in on the conversation.

"I suggest we take the kids far into the woods. We'll make a fire for them and give each a bit of bread. Then we'll go to work and leave them there. They wont find their way back home and we're rid of them for good."

"Oh no, we can't do that. I don't want to leave America and Russia behind." England said, but his _wife_ kept on bothering about it, until he agreed.

America felt the back of his mind kick him for some reason. There was something strange and familiar about this all.

Russia smiled at America and said softly, "Syestra, go to sleep, da? Don't be sad, we'll get out of this."

America though, couldn't fall asleep. For some reason his mind kept nagging on him, telling him to _think! Think harder!_ A few moments of nothing he finally fell in to a restless sleep.

-

-  
-

The next morning came too soon, as their, supposed, mother woke them up hastily, "Get up, you two. We have to go to work." She gave both of them a bit of bread and said, "This is for lunch. Don't eat it now, because you wont get any more."

America sleepily walked after them all and wanted to stab Hungary for making them wake up before the sun had even come out. But the more he walked, the more he began to wonder... Would England really do something like this? Leave them out in the woods, all alone? He scowled; of course he wouldn't. This is some kind of a parallel universe or something.

He scratched the back of his head absently and stared at Russia, who seemed to be in deep thought. Suddenly, America got a great idea and took out his bread. He started making a small trail of them. Russia, noticing what he was doing, went to walk in front of America to shield him from their parents' gazes.

It didn't take long for them to get to the center of the forest and England said, "Now, bring me some wood so I can make you a fire. Then you wont get cold." America and Russia complied and went looking for small sticks. After a while they made it back to England, who smiled warmly and made a fire for them. A bit later he stood up and said, "Me and mom will go working now. When we get done, we'll come after you."

America snorted and wanted to say, '_I hardly doubt that'_ but stopped himself in the last moment. Instead he sat down next to Russia and waited. At noon Russia took out his bread and gave half of it to America, because America had used up all of his. After that, still hearing how England was cutting down the trees, they fell asleep.

When they woke up it was completely black. America shivered from the cold and frowned, "I can't believe they really left us. That damn England..." He grumbled under his breath and started to look around for his bread-trail. The full moon was shining brightly, so it it wasn't that hard to see, but America still couldn't find his trail.

Russia sighed and said, "The birds and animals must've eaten it all. Come on, maybe we can find the way back home ourselves, da?"

They walked for the whole night and the day after that, but only managed to find themselves deeper in it. On the third day they felt awfully tired already and their legs barely held them up anymore. Luckily though, America spotted a white bird on a tree branch, singing.

"Hey, maybe we should follow that bird?" America said happily and Russia nodded weakly. They followed the bird, until they got to a huge, beautiful house. It smelled so nice that America quickly went to it and sniffed it. Finally getting that it indeed was food, he started eating the house, not caring how it would look afterwards. Russia too went to eat the candy house and soon they were both almost full.

Suddenly the door opened and out walked Belarus, eyes wide and red.

America almost choked on his cookie and stared at Belarus. The girl though, only smiled and said, "Come in, my children. Why are you outside in the cold. Come, come!" She led them inside and gave them a proper lunch, with cake and milk.

And that was when it hit America like a fish in the face; this was a _fairytale!_ Hansel and Gretel, to be specific. America felt his blood run cold and he thought frantically how he got here and how to get out of here. He got zero on the 'how he got here' part. And he guessed that he would get out of it when the fairytale would end happily, so all he had to do was act like in the book. He relaxed and chuckled slightly; this was easy.

The next day he woke up to Belarus shaking him awake, "Come now! You have to wake up and start training your brother. When he's all muscly and handsome, then I will rape him~!"

America stared blankly at Belarus, who continued to dance in her own little happy world. "Aren't you... Russia's sister?" He asked.

Belarus stopped fooling around and stared at America silently, before she asked, "...What the hell are you talking about boy... girl... transvestite.. ugh, whatever! Go train your brother, until he looks almost edible."

America thought that it wasn't necessary, when he saw Belarus start drooling and her eyes gloss over. Nevertheless, he went inside the cell Russia was put into, but didn't lift even one finger to train him. He told everything to Russia, who choked on his own breath and said, "I don't want to be raped! We have to get out of here!"

America grinned and said, "Don't worry! I'm the hero! Luckily, I know how the story goes, so all I have to do is throw that witch in a stove and we'll be free! Neat plan, huh?"

Russia smiled slightly and said, "You always were smarter than me, syestra."

America felt his cheeks burn slightly, but brushed it off. The next few hours he told everything there was to tell about his world and asked if he knew what was going on. Russia, though sceptical at first, knew nothing and solemnly said, "Sadly, I don't know anything about your world. I don't think you made that story up yourself, but it sounds..."

"So unbelievable? Yeah," America snorted, "Believe me, where I come from, England is anything _but_ married to Hungary. If anything, then he was married to France sometime..."

"France?" Russia cocked his head to the side, "France is the king in this world."

America laughed, "Really? Him?! I bet he's got an alliance with Belarus here."

"Before Hungary came, he wanted to marry England, but he turned him down."

America was in a new fit of laughter, but almost immediately stopped, when the cell opened and Belarus told him to get out.

The next few weeks were uneventful. America kept_ training_ Russia and Belarus was puzzled why Russia didn't seem to get more fit and handsome. Finally she had enough though and said, "America, get my bed ready. I'm taking Russia, whether he's ready or not."

It was then that America began to feel nervous. He looked behind Belarus to see the oven all heated up for the dinner and he grinned, "Of course, but first I want to get the dinner done. Would you come over here and help me see if it's hot enough?" He pulled Belarus by her dress to the Oven. Belarus went closer to it and without warning, America pushed her into the oven. Feeling slightly guilty about that, he soon forgot about it, as he went to help Russia get out of the cell.

They spent half of the day packing sweets for their trip and they finally went to find their home. A day later they found their home. Their father was inside, looking miserable and drunk, but when he saw them, he immediately jumped up and rushed to hug them both. "Oh I'm so sorry for what I did to your two! I thought you were dead! Oh, I'm so sorry!"

America pulled back from England, a frown on his face, "You've been drinking again. And where's Hungary?"

"Shut up, idiot!" England said, half-playfully and then added, "Hungary died from a sickness. I'm now... going to marry... France."

America snorted and tried to keep his laughter inside, but England still saw it and angrily hit him on the head, "Idiot! It's not like I wanted to! It's just that he'll be able to give us a better life, than what we have right now!" Even though England was annoyed with America, he happily sent them to bed and said, "Life will get better from now on, children."

With that in mind, America fell asleep, feeling better than he had in centuries.

----

Syestra - сестра - sister


	2. Rapunzel

**Disclaimer:** Me and own anything? Pffff, yeah right XDD No own nothing!

**Warnings:** Yaoi (boyXboy); fairytales; Russia; in some cases there might be character deaths; nation names used (but real names too sometimes); in some chapters Prussia, Belarus and Romano; language; eventual RusAm

A/N: Umm, yeah XDD This story wont have too many chapters :D Also, would you like me to change the rating to M? With smut in later chapters? :D Also... how I got Finland in this one? Well, my brother picked him out~! XDD

Also, some chapters might come out slightly... short D: Sorry, but the original stories are even shorter and I try to make them longer. But some of the stories will be very long, maybe even in two parts. (And I suggest you guys not listening to "Pub and Go" when writing something XDD Hence the crappy part with Finland and America in the beginning.) And Russia's OOC in some chapters, like this one (because every story is different and so changes his personality, though only slightly)

**Chapter 2 - Rapunzel**

America yawned slightly, feeling warm and comfortable. Half unconscious, half awake he partly remembered what had happened yesterday. He contently turned around on his warm bed and sighed. There was no way that could've been real. It was all just a... really realistic dream, that's all. After all, how could he be inside of a fairytale?! Pfft, stupid!

After a few moments though, something started to nag at the back of his head slightly. He frowned and turned on his back, opening his eyes. Slightly confused by the _wrong_ ceiling he was seeing, he sat up. This wasn't his home. Hell, he could even tell that this wasn't America anymore, from what he saw outside the window.

With dread he quickly stood up, only to fall back on the bed by something pulling him by the hair. He looked back and saw, to his horror, a long braid of hair. Standing back up, but not before falling back down again, he ran to the window and stared out. He was in a tower... with no doors and only one window; the window he was looking out of. America felt his heart drop and he groaned out loud when he remembered that Hansel and Gretel had been actually _real_.

"Hell no!" America yelled out loudly, "Rapunzel?! No way! I don't want to be the girl again! And I don't want anyone climbing up my hair!" Looking back out of the window he saw miles and miles of forest.

He frowned slightly, wondering who the prince and witch were if he was Rapunzel, and trying to remember how the story went. It was a long time since he'd heard any fairytales. England had been the one who read bedtime stories to him, but that was a long time ago. It was a miracle he had even remembered Hansel and Gretel. But he guessed that had been the only story he had truly been interested in. Because of the candy-house and because the other stories, like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, were love stories and thus were quite boring to him.

With a sigh he sat down on the bed and stared at his long hair. Briefly he wondered how anyone could wash it like this, but was soon brought out of his thoughts when he heard something come from below.

"_America, America let down your hair to me~!"_

America went to the window and looked below. He couldn't quite make out who it was, but figured it was the witch of this tower and yelled, "Climb on a ladder! I'm not letting you climb up here on my hair."

There was a slight pause and then the person below yelled, "Please? ...I got hamburgers!"

America froze and then yelled back, "Cola too?"

"Yes, now can I come up?"

America immediately threw his long hair down below, facing the room as he sat down and waited. He winced slightly when the other person started climbing up, but decided that it was worth it... for the burgers and the cola.

The person got up and America stared at him for a while. A few moments later he exclaimed, "Santa!" And hugged the boy. The boy though, pulled away and said, "America, it's Finland, not santa. How many times do I have to tell you?" Finland sighed and held up a bag of burgers and cola for America, who took them immediately and started eating.

"Now, America, how do you feel? Do you want some extra blankets for the cold nights?" Finland asked warmly and stared at how America continued to devour his food, like he hadn't gotten any hamburgers in weeks. America, though, shook his head, mouth full, and then said, slurping on his cola, "I'd want... a new... video game... for my... christmas... though... SANTA!"

Finland frowned and said, "Not santa, America, it's Finland," He sighed, ignoring the other statement, and then asked cheerfully, "So, what did you do when I was gone?"

America shrugged as he finished his burger and cola, "Nothing much. Was just thinking... By the way, are you the witch in this story?"

Finland blinked and looked slightly insulted, "I beg your pardon. If anyone's a witch, then you could call it England. He does all sorts of crazy stuff that I don't even want to know about."

America laughed, "Yeah, that's just like him!" He then stared at Finland for a while and asked, "Are you the prince then?"

Finland smiled awkwardly and said, "I'm not a prince, America, don't you remember? I brought you to this tower when you were twelve years old and you must obey my every word..." Under his breath he added, "Though usually it's the other way around... Anyway," Finland straightened up and continued, "I have to go now. Be sure to not let any strangers in, right?" He went to the window and it took America a few moments before he understood that he was waiting for him to help him get down.

America grudgingly went to the window and let his long hair fall down it. Finland smiled and climbed down. Before he was out of earshot though, he yelled, "Remember to only let your hair down when I call '_America, America, let down your hair to me!'_, Selvä?! Näkemiin, America!" He smiled one more time and then climbed fully down and left America alone again.

America scowled at the retreating back and sat down on his bed, trying to remember the story of Rapunzel. He didn't remember half of it, but he did remember the end. In the end Rapunzel was in some kind of a desert with two children, a year later, and then came the prince. The prince was blind, but Rapunzel healed him with her tears... or something... and they lived happily ever after.

America lay down on his bed and put his hands behind his head comfortably. Well, as comfortably as he could with that much hair. As he stared at the ceiling, he wished he could get away from here, before the next year. He had no motivation to stay here for a year. He wanted to go back to the real world. But the only way he thought would even remotely help him to get out of this, was trying to play into his role. Still, he desperately wanted to get out of this already.

He briefly wondered if he was going to see many more fairytales like this, before he yawned and closed his eyes. For some reason, he felt terribly tired all the time lately. He half wished he could even go back to "Hansel and Gretel" and live there. It seemed that their lives were now perfect, thanks to America. England was happily(?) living with France and they didn't have to worry about being poor anymore. America smiled slightly as he remembered how cute Russia had looked like when he was small.

But the more he thought about how England and Russia were doing in "Hansel and Gretel", the more he thought about the real world, which kinda made him sad. _What's this? A hero can't be sad! How can people believe that he's the Hero then?!_ America scolded himself slightly.

Just as he was about to doze off into another dreamless sleep, he heard something. It was soft and America barely heard it, but it was there.

_"America, America, let down your hair to me~!"_ America jumped up and ran to the window, grinning to himself. That must be the prince... Too bad he could barely make out anything from up there.

He threw his long hair down and waited patiently, bearing with the pain. It felt like hours, but the person finally got up and america immediately looked at him. He scowled slightly as he saw Russia, who was bowing down in front of him and smiling politely.

"Privyet. I am Rus---"

"Yeah, yeah, you came for me, right? Let's go then. I don't have time to waste." America said quickly and stared out of the window.

Russia smiled slightly and said, "Ah, aggravated, I see." He took a hold of America by the waist, catching the other off guard, and whispered softly in his ear, "Then, why waste our time here, fair lady?"

America, face red, turned to Russia and shouted, "I'm not a lady! Can't you see I'm a man like you?!"

Russia paused for a moment, but then continued with a small smile, "Ah, forgive me. Your eyes were so captivating that I couldn't even see your gender. They remind me of the blue sky. And together with those lovely blonde locks, you remind me of sunflowers that reach up to the blue sky."

America wanted to gag; seriously, what was up with the lame pick-up lines?!

He pulled away from Russia and said with a serious tone, "Okay, look here. I want to get out of this tower. And, I really hate asking this of you, but since you're the only one who could help... I need your help with this." America stated seriously, staring at the still smiling man before him, "We could go with the 'ladder' plan, but seeing as building a ladder this long would take forever then I think you should just bring me a pair of scissors."

"Ah, are you going to cut your hair?" Russia asked, mouth pulling into a slight frown.

America nodded, "Yeah, that's the only way we could get out of here." He looked up at Russia and felt his stomach twist mercilessly, when he saw Russia's eyes fill with tears and his mouth turn into a pout. The hero inside him stepped forward and tried to comfort the other slightly, "D-don't worry. I mean, it'll grow back eventually." That was the wrong thing to say.

Russia started whining and cried out, "That'll take forever~! And- And your hair is so pretty the way it is right now!" America, panicking, said, "Come on now, Russia, you're strong! You can handle seeing me cut my hair off." He winced as Russia started sobbing and flew at America, throwing his arms around his neck and placing his face into the crook of America's neck.

America, offbalanced from Russia's sudden weight, fell on the bed. America, seeing that trying to sit up in this position wouldn't do, tried to comfort Russia by patting him on the back.

Suddenly the crying stopped and Russia looked at America, a grin on his face. America stared at Russia blankly and hit him on the head, "You were supposed to get me out of this tower, not be a pervert, you commie bastard!"

"Oww..." Though Russia smiled slightly, through his tears and got off of the other.

America scoffed and sat up, trying to remember if the real Russia was ever like this. Coming up with the conclusion that usually Russia was even more unpredictable and scary, America stood up and said, "Now go away and bring me the scissors. Who knows when the witch will come back and kill you."

"I'm gonna make you my bride!"

America choked on his breath and stared at Russia, shocked by the suddenness of it all, "You... You can't be serious! C-Come on, Russia..." America pulled at his collar slightly, feeling a little too hot for his comfort, "I mean, we've been rivals for ages. Don't you remember the Cold War and all? We can't just suddenly marry."

Russia cocked his head to the side, "Cold... War?... I don't know what that is, but I've decided now! You're gonna be my bride! You remind me so much of a sunflower that I just have to have you!" He took a strong hold on America's waist and pulled him forward, managing to place a small kiss on America's forehead. America blushed bright red and pulled away. Shaking slightly from anger and embarassment, America pointed at the window and said, "If you don't get out of here now, I wont lend my hair to you, so you could get down safely."

"Ah, but why would I want to get away. I'd like being up here with you."

"You forgot; I can still push you over that edge."

Russia's smile slipped for a moment and he said, "Ah, then I think we have a problem."

"You're the only one who has a problem!" America scoffed, before he went to the window and let his hair fall down it, sitting down and holding his hair tightly with both hands. "Get going. I want those scissors before the next century." America blinked slightly when he saw Russia's smile turn evil for a second, but didn't really think much of it. Russia, though, went to America and then kneeled before him and said, "Then, America, is it?" He smiled slightly at the other's nod and then leaned in and placed a small kiss on America's cheek. "I'll come back tomorrow night and take you back to the castle where we can marry."

Before America could even think about throwing all sorts of insults and punches at him, he quickly jumped on the windowsill and climbed down. America was slightly surprised that such a big body could be so agile. But, then again, Russia was really good at fighting.

America scoffed when the other finally got down below, and he stood up to watch him retreat. Russia waved and then retreated to the woods. Only when he was completely out of sight did America turn away and go to his bed.

That night, it took a while, but he finally fell asleep. He didn't think much of how the fairytale-Russia was acting. After all, he was used to France acting like that all the time. And this_ was_ a fairytale; there was no way Russia would ever act like that in real life.

With that in mind, he fell into another dreamless sleep.

-

-

-

"I'm back, my love~!"

America groaned slightly, as something shook him awake. He slowly turned on his back and opened his eyes to stare up into violet ones. Russia was leaning over him, hands beside America's head, trapping him. America blinked sleepily and turned around again before he fell asleep.

"Eh, don't fall asleep again, daragoy," Russia shook the nation awake again and said, "I did what you told me to do~!"

America groggily sat up and stared blankly at Russia, before something hit him, "Hey, how did you get up here without my hair?"

Russia smiled childishly and said, "England helped me~! I knew that you must've been sleeping already, so I asked for his help! Ah, his magic is so awesome~!" He hugged America, pressing his body tightly to the other's. "I missed you~!" Russia said with a creepy smile and hugged America tightly.

America choked slightly and pushed the other away, "Wait, what day is it?" He stared out of the window and saw that it was pitch black.

"It's the same day as it was when I came 4 hours earlier~! I went back home after you told me what to do and I got the scissors. But then I got tired of waiting for the next day to come and I decided to come back here again!" He giggled childishly, "Ain't I sweet? Makes you wanna marry me, doesn't it?"

"Not if you're not the last nation on earth! And that wont be happening, ever!" America shouted and pushed Russia further away. He stood up from the bed and then glanced at Russia, "Anyway, where did you leave the scissors then?"

"Ah, here they are!" Russia exclaimed and gave the scissors to the nation. America grinned, putting the scissors into his pocket, and said, "Now, to be a hero again!" He went to the windowsill and tied the end of his hair to the curtain bar. Then he turned to Russia and grinned his trademark grin, "Now, let's get out of here."

Russia smirked, "I agree wholeheartedly." He went and took a hold on America's waist, smiling his childish smile.

"...You're kinda scary, you know that?"

"Hmm, how so?"

America opted not to say anything and instead climbed out of the window to climb down his own hair, Russia holding on to him tightly from behind. Jumping the last few feet, America sighed and cut the long braid off. He turned to Russia with a smile, that disappeared soon after. Russia glomped him hard and he heard him giggle, "You were right! I can get used to this new hairstyle! It's even cuter!"

America sighed and pushed the fairytale-Russia away, before he said, "Okay, I wanna go home now. Another happy ending, so this is where we part ways."

Russia giggled coldly and said, "Oh, dear America, we can't do that! We have to fall in love and get married! It's not a happy ending without a marriage." He smiled coldly and slowly started to walk towards America, who started to retreat, slightly nervous.

-

-

-

And thus America was dragged back to the castle, though unconscious thanks to Russia. You can only imagine how angry he was after he woke up. Russia didn't care though and happily told him that they would be marrying tomorrow at midnight in a field of sunflowers. Why midnight, had America asked. Russia had just told him that then they would be able to dance in the moonlight, to which America had promptly hit Russia on the head. Seriously, why was this fairytale-Russia so... cheesy?!

America kept pounding on the door of his room all day, because Russia had locked him into a room, occasionally coming to visit him. When visiting him in the room, he always brought food and tried to flirt with America. Needless to say, he didn't get far with that.

And then it was night time. America went to sleep, not really worrying about the marriage as much as he knew he should. He felt too tired to worry about it much, so he decided that he'll worry about it tomorrow.

But now, good night!

----

Privyet - привет - Hello/Hi

Daragoy - дорогой - Darling

Näkemiin - Good bye

Selvä - Right?/Got it? (or something like that, I think. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.)


	3. Cinderella

**Disclaimer:** Me and own anything? Pffff, yeah right XDD No own nothing!

**Warnings:** Crossdressing, Yaoi (boyXboy); fairytales; Russia; in some cases there might be character deaths; nation names used (but real names too sometimes); in some chapters Prussia, Belarus and Romano; language; eventual RusAm

A/N: I think I'll change the rating to M... but later. Later, near the end. Also, I can't keep America In-Character D: I think I fail when I write him! A-and I want this story to have a slight humorous side to it, so that America's (rather dark) ramblings wont leave anyone sad. Reason why this story is in a need of a beta D:

And so sorry for being so late in updating! D: But now here's a fairytale twice as long as the last one... O3O

Also, you know how I get my awesome characters for different places? 8D I let my brother pick out 3 names randomly and then he will choose the one who fits with the roll the best! So now you know why in this chapter the two most unlikely people are brothers! XD ...And no, they're not brothers in the . Quite the opposite actually. And Russia is WHOSE son?! ...Don't ask XDD Blame my bro for blindly picking him!

Anyway, enjoy this crappy thing for now~!

**Chapter 3 - Cinderella**

America slowly opened his eyes, feeling like a nuclear missile had just reached it's destination in his brain. He felt a small throb in his left arm, but ignored it when he saw that he had slept on it the entire night. He winced as he sat up, blood flowing into his left arm and everywhere else. Today he wasn't really surprised anymore to find himself in a place other than his own home. Everything that had occured in the last few days had flown into his mind as soon as he had opened his eyes. Though it was still a little weird for him; how could he somehow become a _part of_ a fairytale?! America shook his head gently, wincing as it started to throb afterwards. He sighed and stood up.

And _that_ was when he noticed something that was not right, at all. He was sleeping on a thin, lumpy mattress, definitely unlike the luxurious and soft bed he had fallen asleep last night. There was no blanket, nor a pillow to support his head, though America had barely noticed that when he was sleeping; it was a really hot summer day.

With growing curiosity he inspected his clothes. His pants were broken and ragged and barely held any color at all, while his T-shirt was just gray and ashen, looking like he had rolled around in... ash. America went to the only window in the room and looked out. He must be in some kind of a garret, or something, he noted silently.

Scratching his head absentmindedly he went to the door to go downstairs. He barely got to even touch the handle though, when the door was thrust straight into his face.

"Oi, Hamburger-bastard! Get your ass down and make me breakfast!"

America rubbed his aching temple lightly and glared at the person who had dared hit him; the world's greatest superpower. His anger dissipated slightly though and replaced itself with curiosity, when he saw the person he had not expected in the slightest.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Romano sneered, grabbing America by the hand and started dragging America out of the room with surprising strength.

"Hey, Romano, stop it! Where are you taking me?!" America said, starting to pry his hand out of Romano's grip. The other glared at America and said coldly, "Look, if you wont stop struggling, I will tell Austria you wont listen to what I say."

America blinked, "Austria?" He chuckled lightly, "As if I'd be afraid of someone like him! I'm stronger than the both of you together!" Something was starting to tug at the back of his mind again. He knew this fairytale, but couldn't place it. It was so familiar though.

"Cinderica!"

America stilled like lightning had struck him. Well... who knew Austria had that loud voice in him? America certainly didn't. The blond decided to stay still when he saw Austria come into view. A fuming, angry Austria. America winced; it reminded him of England, though the other still was a long way from being as angry with him as England usually used to be.

"Cinderica, get to work now! Your father's coming home today."

"Well I--- Wait, what?" Austria had called him... what?! And whose FATHER was coming home?!

"Don't ask any unnecessary questions, you idiot. Get to work. First, make us breakfast." Austria turned around to walk away, but stopped for a second. His eyes narrowed slightly when a cat, a black cat, crossed his path. He held his mouth shut though and left the two to their own devices.

America looked at Romano, who glared back, "Get to it, hamburger-bastard! And be sure to make pasta. And use those tomatos from Spain." He turned around and walked away to his own room. Before going in he yelled, "Be sure to call me when it's done. You wont live to regret it otherwise." He slammed the door shut with more force than needed, making America cringe.

"What's his problem?..." America wondered silently, walking away to find the kitchen. He was hungry. He hoped there were hamburgers there.

America stopped at the kitchen's doorway, frozen, when he saw who was there. It was Germany. America frowned when he noticed that Germany was washing the dishes. He walked up behind him and stared as the other cleaned the plates sparkling clean.

"Good morning, Cinderica."

America blinked out of his stupor and stared into the blue eyes of Germany. He was silent for a moment, before he greeted the other with a grin. Germany didn't think much of it and went back to washing the dishes. America stared at him for a while, before something hit him. "Hey, Germany, why are you washing the dishes?" Was Germany abused as much as he was? (Well, it felt like he was being abused. Honestly, Romano didn't have to yell like that and treat him like a maid.)

Germany wiped his hands on a towel and turned to America, "I felt like doing something. Besides, it will take chores off of your shoulders, so you shouldn't be unhappy."

America was silent for a second, but before Germany could walk away, the other suddenly yelled, "Now I remember!"

Germany furrowed his eyebrow slightly, "What did you remember?" The other grinned back and said, "This fairytale is _Cinderella_! Man, and it took me that long to understand that!" He laughed out loud, not noticing how Germany was staring at him strangely. America turned to Germany and said, "Say, have you guys already gotten invitations to the ball?"

"I... uhh... Yes... Cinderica, are you feeling okay?" Germany asked, genuinely concerned. He stared as America grinned and said, "Never felt better... Wait, scratch that, actually I still feel like a road-roller had run over me. So yeah, I guess I'm not." He laughed though, making Germany even more confused.

Germany sighed and said, "Cinderica, you should get to work now. Otherwise mother and Romano will be mad at you. Do you want me to help you with preparing breakfast?"

"Yeah, I don't mind." America gave a light grin, placing his hands behind his head. "I want hamburgers though."

Germany's eyes narrowed, "No. Cinderica, don't you remember what happened last time you made them?" America's grin disappeared and he frowned slightly as he tried to remember what exactly happened the last time he made hamburgers. "Umm... I think I blew up the stove... or something..." He was brought out of his thoughts by Germany sighing, "That's right, so no hamburgers. Actually, no getting near the stove either. We'll make pasta." It sounded like Germany didn't really like the thought of having pasta for breakfast. "You can chop the tomatos. I'll handle anything that has something to do with the... stove."

America nodded, bored a bit. He went to chop the tomatos (though it looked like he was trying to murder them, even though he didn't mean to. He had even asked Germany to give him a chainsaw to get it done faster, to which the other had abruptly refused). Together it didn't take ridiculously long to make the breakfast. Germany was even doing most of the work and America didn't complain. What bothered him was the silence they worked in; it made him itch, uncomfortable, because he didn't really know what to say to Germany, but he wanted to do _something._ He never really talked to the other. Germany was just another nation to him and he was a world superpower to Germany. To say the truth, they didn't actually get along. They didn't actually hate each other either though. They were just kind of... strangers.

"Cinderica, could you please get me a spoon?" Germany asked. America complied and gave him a spoon. He continued to chop the tomatos, before he asked, "Hey, Germany, why do you guys call me Cinderica?" That was a fair enough question; he just hoped that Germany wont start yelling at him like he did to Northern Italy.

No, he did the exact opposite. The blond just blinked and said, "Because you're always covered in cinder. Romano wanted to call you cinder-bastard, but I guess it was me who gave you the name 'Cinderica'..." A light blush appeared on Germany's cheeks and he turned around to go back to making breakfast.

America, happy that he was finally talking to the other, pried on, "So you gave me the name 'Cinderica'? How about you call me just America. Because that other name makes me feel like I'm a girl." He laughed and Germany stared fondly at him, before he replied, "America then? Alright, if it---" He stopped abruptly and stared at America's grinning face, before turning back to making food.

America grinned even wider, though he didn't know why, "If it what, Germany?" It looked like Germany didn't want to talk about it, so America finally gave up, but he decided that he'll think about it later. He tried to change the subject though, "So, Germany, are you going to that ball? Who's the prince?"

After a few moments of silence he was answered with a cautious 'yes'. Germany turned to face America again, his eyes holding some sort of confusion, "Cin--- I mean, ...America... have you forgotten who the Prince is? King Denmark's son."

"King Denmark?" America furrowed his eyebrow slightly, trying to remember who exactly the other was. Did Denmark even _have_ a son?

"Yes, King Denmark. The ball is going to take place at the castle and the Prince is going to choose a bride for himself. It takes place... the day after tomorrow..." Germany frowned slightly, "I should probably get my things ready. Cind--- I mean, America... can you take care of the breakfast yourself?"

"Sure!"

It looked like Germany doubted it very hard, but he didn't say anything, leaving America alone in the kitchen. Now that America was alone, he stared at the pasta that was almost done. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, but decided that he could eat the pasta for breakfast since he had made it himself. He did the finishing touches to it, very happy with the way it came out. He would have to gloat about his food-making skills in front of England the next time he saw him.

He half wondered what the Russia in _Rapunzel _was doing, since his _bride_ was gone. He didn't dwell on it for long though. If only Romano wouldn't be here, then he would love to live happily ever after here. It wasn't like he was going to go to that ball, even though the story said so. He wasn't going to go, no way. He was perfectly happy here.

---

"Dammit! Take me with you!" America whined and yelled, kicking his arms and legs all around. "I can't stand it here! It's so boring and Romano was being a retard again today! Dad, tell them something!" He looked over at his _dad_, who was asleep. "Dad." America tried. Not getting a response he went to the other man and hit him on the head, "Greece! Come on, tell them to take me with them!"

Greece blinked slowly, rubbing the cat's ear silently that was sitting on his lap, before completely relaxing against the chair again, looking like he was about to fall asleep again. "America... Listen to your mother..." And he closed his eyes softly, falling asleep again, not even knowing what America had rambled about.

America bristeled and turned back to his brothers. Romano was gloating and laughing at him. Though America would've laughed at him himself, if it weren't for the fact that he was upset. But Romano was wearing an orange dress with fake-tomatoes strapped to it for America's sake!

Germany looked better in America's opinion. He was wearing a light blue frilly dress, that didn't quite show off his flat chest. In fact, it covered all of the main aspects of being a man, so if he just had a pretty face, then he could pass off as a complete girl. America frowned and went up to the blond, raising his hand to ruffle up his hair. He stood back to admire his work, "Now, you look better. Be sure to capture Prince's heart, right?" He turned to Romano with a blank look and said, "Hope you fall into a mud puddle."

"Why you hamburger-bastard!"

America grinned, as Germany held Romano back from killing him and he waved as they left the house with Austria. Greece was left at home, sleeping.

America frowned slightly; he really really had wanted to go. It had been so boring for the last few days. Romano kept on irritating him to no end. No one ever managed that, except for a few individuals like England and France... and sometimes Russia. Also, Austria was someone America would from now on avoid like a plague. He hated the other man's voice, because always when he heard it, Austria was yelling. And that was never a pretty sight. Greece, his supposed father in this fairytale, had come home on the first night he _stayed_ there and had immediately crashed to bed. The next day he was anything but awake, making America scribble him down from a mental list of his.

The only one who America was even remotely comfortable with was Germany. The other was nice to talk to and he was nothing like he used to be in World War 1 and 2. He was a bit interested in America's stories, even though most of them were idiotic, like England always said. He would listen to America's ramblings and when America needed something, he did not hesitate to find or get it for him. America wondered if the real Germany was like that too, but he couldn't remember. So he let it slide away.

America scratched his head slightly and went to the attic, where his temporary sleeping quarters were (temporary, because America refused to live there forever) and sat down on his_ bed_. He didn't really mind being here, except... if it weren't for the stab of boringness that went through him every... five minutes or so. He almost wished he was back in _Rapunzel_... or at least _Hansel and Gretel_. At least it was somewhat fun there. This story... this story was a _love_ story. Something America didn't really like. The love stories had been especially boring to him when he was younger. It wasn't an exception nowadays, he guessed.

"America, dear!"

America sat up and instantly wished he hadn't. It was England... Actually, the Britannia Angel. Hovering a few inches from the ground and... smiling... creepily.

"England!" America exclaimed. He leaned back slightly when England leaned towards him and smiled, "America, do you want to go to that ball?"

"Uhh, no. I did, but now I changed my mind." America pushed England out of his face and said, "Now get out. I'm trying to figure out how to get out of this story."

England ignored America's last few sentences and said, eyes narrowing, "Well, you're going to that ball, whether you like it or not. Because I've waited all of my bloody life to see you go to a dance with the most beautiful dress on anyone's ever seen. So prepare yourself!" He raised his magic wand and shot a puff of pink magic at the blond. America tensed and barely had any time to dodge the attack. Once out of the way, he turned around to stare at England incredulously, "Are you out of your mind, England?! That... _thing_... will make me a child, not make me wear a dress!"

England rolled his eyes, "Oh, stop being such a bloody wuss and stay still." He aimed at America again, "I promise you it wont even hurt." He shot at America again, who didn't have time to dodge this one. Seriously, why were his reactions so slow in these fairytales?!

America groaned loudly at the impact of his back hitting the floor and he sat up, wincing slightly. He looked down on himself and then glared at England, who was grinning at him. "Aww, don't you just look cute in that?!" England's eyes glinted as he ran up to America and took a hold of his hand, hoisting him up, "Come, America, we have so much to do. We have to get you a nice horse and carriage and everything." England giggled.

America stared at England for a while, before he asked, "Are you drunk, England?"

"No... Why would you ask that?"

"Because you... uhh... _giggled_."

England scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous. The recession has finally gotten to your head." He sighed lightly and continued, "And I thought my medicine would work. Tsk, I guess no medicine works on an idiot."

America barely had any time to think about England's last few words, before he was dragged downstairs. Giving a short 'goodbye' to his father, America was hauled out of the front door and into the cold night. While England was busy with... something else, America checked himself out. The dress was snow white and had blue pearls attached to it, making the dress give an eerie, but beautiful, light blue glow. What really annoyed America though, were the glass shoes. They were uncomfortable; his legs were already on fire! America wished that the guy who invented high-heels was still alive so he could just punch him in the face.

"Oi, England, I don't want to go through this! Can't I at least get an awesome suit or something? I'm not really that dresses type."

"Nonsense," England said with a smile and did the last finishing touches, "Now get in the carriage! But remember that everything turns back at midnight, so unless you want to embarrass yourself and/or get beaten up by Romano, get back here before midnight." He gave a light push to America's back and the other grumbled, but got inside and took a seat.

"Oh, wait, one more thing." England said and walked up to America. He reached up and took his glasses off. "There, now everyone can see your beautiful eyes. Go knock 'em dead." America leaned out of the window and asked, "Say, England, who's the prince anyway?"

England gave a small smile. He was silent for a moment, staring at how the carriage started going and answered just before America was out of earshot, "It's Prince Russia."

---

"No, I don't want to go! I don't want to! I refuse to! That Cold War was the last straw! I'm not gonna even try to be his friend anymore, let alone be his fiancé! I'm sick of these fairytales with Russia in them! And he's so creepy!" America yelled as the coachman tried to push him inside. America grunted slightly when his legs gave out under him and he collapsed on the stairs to the castle. Damn, he felt weak.

He glared at the coachman (who was really actually a mouse), as the other went to 'park' the carriage. America turned to the castle in front of him and tried to suppress a shudder. It was Russia's castle. And it almost _glowed_ of cold.

He went up to the door and stared at it for a while, before he pushed it open and stepped inside. Immediately he felt everyone's eyes on him. It didn't really bother him; what with him being in the hero business and all that. He even liked it; he smiled at everyone and started to walk towards the food-table. He pleaded that there would be hamburgers there.

Alas, before he could get there, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. America turned around, a bright smile on his face. Until...

"Hello there, lovely maiden. May I ask you to a dance? Pozhalusta?" America's smile turned a little more forced.

Five minutes later they were on the dance floor and everyone were watching them quietly. America was sort of surprised he knew how to dance like that. It was like his feet had a mind of their own. But America didn't really pay attention to that. Instead, he was trying to make Russia dislike him, so he wouldn't have to... marry him. From the looks of things, it was turning out to be exactly the opposite.

"You're so beautiful."

"Really now? That's the first time I've heard a man say that to another man?"

Russia made one false step, but it wasn't noticable to anyone except for America. His eyes softened again though, "Oh, so you're a male? Hmm, so that's why you don't have any curves... But I bet you're very flexible." He said it all with an innocent childish voice, making America furrow his eyebrow in confusion. The blond laughed silently after a while and said, "Yes, but I bet you're not, with how fat you are."

Russia frowned slightly and his voice came out as a small whine, "I'm not fat, just big-boned."

"Keep lying to yourself, dear." America wanted to kick Russia in the shin and make a run for it. But seeing as there was still time for midnight and England would surely decapitate him if he were to come back home early, then he stayed where he was, stiffly dancing along to the tune. No one noticed that he was stiff though; it looked like he was a natural at this.

Russia's big eyes were suddenly sparkling and he lifted America in the air and spun him around. America, slightly surprised at that, tried to glare at Russia, while being swung around with Russia in circles, "Put me down now or I'll send that atomic bomb at you that I promised a long time ago."

"Ah, you're a feisty one!" Russia exclaimed happily and put America down again, barely hearing the clapping and cheering of the crowd.

"You wont believe how feisty I could get with a gun."

"Hmm, kinky. But I'm not into that sort of thing. Also, did you know that your eyes are like the sea? I keep drowning in them." America sighed and avoided an attempt from Russia to get them closer together, "Okay, enough now."

"You're right. We'll save the teasing for the foreplay." Russia giggled.

"I meant; let's stop dancing now. Also, you can shut up now."

"I don't really feel like it. Thanks for the offer though."

"That wasn't an option really, but I guess we can still go on. At least until you pass out."

"Oh, believe me, I could go on for _hours_. It's you who I'm worried about; I'm afraid you might not be able to walk without a limp tomorrow. That aside now, do you have a name, or can I call you _lover_?"

"The name's America, but let's stop the small talk. My foot hasn't met your face yet."

And their conversation continued quietly with both of them occasionally throwing in innuendos. America was so amused by the end of it that he hardly payed attention to the clock. That cost him dearly as he heard the clock suddenly strike and he looked at it. Panicking when he saw that it was 12 o'clock, he hastily got out of Russia's grip and ran out of the castle. His glass slipper came off, though he paid it no heed and continued running. When he was out of the castle gates, his clothes returned to their earlier from and he stopped in light shock. But when he heard Russia yell after him from the castle doors, he continued running. He got home about ten minutes later and he quickly ran up to his room and sat down on it in shock.

_Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell._ He thought, still feeling panicked. Russia was going to find him, because of the damn shoe he left behind. Why did he have to ignore it?! Why couldn't he just take it with him?!

America stood up, trying to calm his breath. He went downstairs, past the sleeping Greece and into the kitchen. He might as well make some dinner. The others would come home and be hungry, so it was best to make some for himself and then go to sleep. He didn't want to see them tonight.

And he was sleeping by the time the others got home.

---

"She looked so pretty! Who do you think she was?"

"I don't know, but she knew how to _dance_."

America scowled at the sounds that came from downstairs and he quietly sat up. Head pounding, he made his way downstairs slowly (as to not aggravate his headache). He'd had another dreamless sleep and even though it must be noon or past that now, he felt more tired than ever. It was like he was actually getting worse with each fairytale. Though America couldn't really tell; maybe he just felt like this after what happened yesterday.

He yawned slightly as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Hey, hamburger-bastard! You wont believe what happened last night! It was awesome!" Romano said excitedly, "There was this girl at the ball and... damn, she was beautiful! And anyway, she lost her glass shoe and the prince said that he will look around the whole kingdom for the owner of that shoe! It's gonna fit on my foot, yeah, and then I'll marry Prince Russia~!"

America stared strangely at Romano, before he shrugged and went to the fridge. "Whatever. Have a happy life." He returned to the table with some food and sat down, missing the look Germany was giving him. America looked up and asked, "So when's he gonna do this? This shoe-fitting thing?"

"Today and tomorrow and for the rest of his life if he needs to. He said so himself." Germany said, eyeing America strangely, but didn't say anything anymore. America sat still for a second, before he went back to eating, nodding slightly, "I guess he must be desperate then." Romano eyed the blonde for a moment, before he said, "Make me breakfast now."

"Dream on!"

"I'm gonna make you wish you hadn't said th---" Romano stopped abruptly when they all heard the doorbell ring. Instantly they all turned to stare at the door. It rung again and Romano hesitantly went to open it. He opened the door slowly and then froze, staring at the man in front of him; the Prince. Russia smiled at Romano and said, "Privyet. Are there any other people in this house?" He asked softly. "Because I want to see whose shoe this is," He said holding up a glass slipper for Romano to see.

"Umm..." Romano felt his cheeks heat up slightly when the Prince chuckled and bent down to his right leg. He took the shoe off gently and said, "If this fits your leg, you'll become my fiancé. Wouldn't you like that?" He glanced at Romano's red face for a second, before he went to slip the shoe on Romano's feet. He frowned though and stood back up with the slipper. "I guess... your feet aren't that small." He looked at Romano and repeated his earlier question, "Darling, please tell me, are there other people in this house?"

Romano, not trusting his voice anymore, nodded, stepping aside as Russia moved past him to the house.

America instantly tensed when Russia walked into the kitchen. His eyes landed on America (America felt his whole blood freeze and he held his breath), before they moved to Germany. America let out a shaky breath then; of course Russia wouldn't recognize him. He was dirty and was wearing ragged clothes, plus he was wearing glasses, which he wasn't on the ball.

While Russia was paying attention to Germany, America silently walked out of the kitchen (but not before he collected the food in his arms and brought it with him) and started going upstairs, hoping that Russia would forget about him.

"You. Come here!" Russia's voice was authorative, but soft.

And did he mention that life was a bastard for ignoring pleas.

America frowned and returned to the kitchen (he placed the food back on the table) and sat down in his seat, glaring up at Russia. Russia was staring at him strangely, before he murmured, "Your eyes..." He was mesmerized for a second, before he leaned down to America's foot and gently took the other's shoe off. America wanted to kick him in the face, it was the perfect moment! But he stopped when he saw Russia's childish eyes grow big and a huge smile appeared on his face, when he saw that the slipper fit on America's foot. Russia might be a bastard, but he deserved happy moments like these more than anyone else.

"It...It fit!" Russia exclaimed and suddenly hugged America tightly. "You have no idea how much I missed you, Lover!" He let go of the blond and stared lovingly at the other. America frowned. "We were apart for less than a day. How could you miss me?" He threw the glass slipper off his foot and stood up. He stared at his _siblings_, who were completely paralized with surprise (well, Romano was), before he glanced at Russia again.

"I refuse."

"Still being hard to get, eh? Lucky for you, I like a challange," Russia grinned at America.

"Lucky for me, I know how to fight."

"Hmm, yes. May I ask you something? Why do your lips say 'no', but your outfit just screams 'yes'?"

"My outfit---"

"Is hideous! You should take it off right now!"

"I could say the same about your face."

"Would you like me to put it on your face then?"

"How would you like to put it on my foot?"

"If that's what it takes for me to finally get to kiss your body. I could kiss anywhere you'd like, I'm not that picky."

"Well, kiss my a--- Actually, forget this. I'm going." America said, turning around to go walk upstairs and fume silently. He didn't get far as Russia caught his hand and lightly pulled him back to him. He smiled at the fuming American and gently bent down to kiss his knuckles. America pulled his hand back as if he was burnt and he stared at Russia strangely. Russia only smiled kindly and said, "I would like you to become my wife."

"Hell no! It was bad enough in the last fairytale, but now you have to propose to me here too?! Seriously, what's gotten into you?!"

"Wanna know what's gonna get into _you_ soon?"

"Well I---..." America shut his mouth in mid sentence and pouted cutely. Russia grinned and took a hold of America's hand again. "Come on, lovely, let's go. We're going to have a _huge_ wedding! Somewhere warm and with sunflowers and everything!" America was silent as Russia led him outside and they started walking to his castle. It was a bit creepy how Russia's eyes suddenly turned childish, but America guessed he liked that look better than something else that may cross Russia's face... like anger.

America stopped walking when he heard running behind them. He and Russia turned around to see Germany running up to them, holding something in his hand. He reached the two soon and stopped to catch his breath, before he stood up and smiled at America. "Cin... I mean, America... Since you two are going to get married now," He ignored America's protests and Russia's smile, continuing, "I-I wanted to give you this." He thrust something into America's hand, holding his hand tightly, not allowing the other to see what it was. He leaned in to America's ear and in a much quieter voice he said, "Please don't look at what it is until tomorrow morning. It... might help your condition."

He pulled back to smile at America and Russia, before saying, "I must go now. Have a happy life." He gave a small glance at America when he said that. Germany turned around and went back to the house, leaving the two alone again. America stared at the small thing in his hand; it was a small ball of paper where there stood, "Do not open." And something else (probably german) next to it. America decided that he was going to leave it for later and put it into his pocket.

Russia turned to America suddenly, eyes growing wider a fraction and his smile growing into a grin, "Hey, let's get married right now!"

"Right now?!" America sputtered, "W-wait. Shouldn't we wait a day or two?" He hoped that he'd be gone in the next fairytale by tomorrow. He seriously did _not _want to marry Russia.

"_Nyet, nyet_, let's get married right now!" He smiled kindly at America. The blond stared at him and laughed nervously. "No. I need time to think and...stuff..." Russia frowned at America, but decided to drop it until they got to the castle.

---

America stared at the small ball of paper that was now in his hand. He was in a luxurious room, courtesy of Russia, sitting on a bed. Russia said that they will talk about the marriage later, after lunch, so until then he gave America a room to stay. America didn't really pay attention to the room itself, as much as he did the small paper ball he had recieved from Germany. It was about the size of a chicken egg, but round. He turned it around in his hand, wondering if he could make out what it was. No luck; the ball was thick and his hand couldn't make out what could be in it.

He glared at it for a second, unconsciously wishing for it to open with his mind only. There was something strange in the way the ball just... stood there, in his hand. America couldn't say anything for sure, but it felt like the most... real thing he had touched the last... week or so? It felt like a rock, while everything else seemed like a mist in these fairytales. It... sent a thrill of excitement down America's spine.

No longer able to contain his excitement he carefully took the paper off. There was a sentence saying; '_Don't open this until tomorrow morning'_ America frowned and ignored the warning, taking that paper off too. Under that was another message; '_Seriously America, this is for tomorrow.'_ He ignored that again and continued to open the ball. After a dozen of those papers and messages, it looked like the size of a small marble, where it finally stood; '_America, this is for your own good! Don't open before tomorrow.'_ America raised an eyebrow and finally decided that maybe he should leave the ball alone.

He stood up, before he remembered something; he wasn't going to be here tomorrow. The ball would disappear. With new vigor, he took the next paper off the ball, where there was, most likely, the last message; _The ball will still be here by tomorrow. It's not gonna go anywhere!'_ With that, America decided that maybe he should wait until tomorrow.

---

"So, America, how do you like it here so far?" Russia asked from across the table. The table wasn't that long that they could barely see each other. No, it was about the size of a kitchen table, if even that. America would've preferred the long table.

They had finished their food a few minutes ago. Well, America had finished _way_ before that, but Russia had finished right then. America had been bored and had wanted to just ask if he could go up to his room, when Russia had asked that question.

"It's..." America hesitated for a second, before replying, "Nice, I guess." His answer must've made Russia happy, because his smile grew bigger and so did his eyes.

"And... have you thought about the marriage?"

America barely hid the grimace, before he said, "Yeah, and I think it would be better if we married tomorrow or something." His answer clearly made Russia sad, and maybe angry, because he shot his eyes to the floor with a frown. America thought Russia looked like a little child at the moment, but didn't say anything for fear of getting on Russia's bad side in this fairytale. He was still weak here and Russia probably was still quite strong.

Russia looked up then, eyes seeming a little more cold. "Very well, America. We'll marry at 1 am tomorrow morning." He stood up, indicating that this was the end to the discussion. America sputtered cutely, but couldn't get anything out before Russia left the room.

America frowned; he wasn't going to marry that communist (even though Russia hadn't been a communist for a long while anymore). He might have a small plan on how he could avoid it and he was pretty sure that it would work. After all, shouldn't he wake up in a different fairytale, if he fell asleep right after the happy end in the last one?

---

Pozhalusta - Пожалуйста - Please

Privyet - привет - Hello/Hi


	4. Marriage and SB part 1

**Disclaimer:**Me and own anything? Pffff, yeah right XDD No own nothing!

**Warnings:**Crossdressing, Yaoi (boyXboy); fairytales; Russia; in some cases there might be character deaths; nation names used (but real names too sometimes); in some chapters Prussia, Belarus and Romano; language; eventual RusAm

A/N: Every good story needs a good amount of angst in it! :D Anyway, the plot is thickening! XDD Oh and before you ask... I have nothing against Belarus! She just fits in these rolls so effing well! Also, I'm trying to fit in every character I know in Hetalia! :D Yeah, there are some nations I know very very _very _little of, so I wont use them (Like Belgium, Taiwan, Hong Kong and some others..) But I don't think that even with the fairytales I will be able to put the others all in here either, so sorry if I forget, or just can't, kay? Kay!

Also, I was writing this while watching a PrusGer video (a sad one), so this explains the crappyness! Blame the video! (Not really, I even recommend that video to you guys!!) And remember that paper ball that Germany gave America? We get to see what it is! :D

Also, YOU GUYS, must guess what the SB stands for... though I'm pretty sure everyone will get it right! XD

**Chapter 4 - Marriage + SB pt. one**

America went to sleep early that night. He couldn't wait to get out of that fairytale, plus he was kind of excited on seeing what the next fairytale would bring. He just hoped it was fun, not another love-story like the last two. And it had been a nice ending in the last fairytale. The Prince and his..._ beloved_ got together and were going to be married. Just that, America wasn't going to be on the one end of the marriage. He could care less if he was replaced by some other version of himself, if it meant he could finally get out of this.

So America was surprised when someone jerked him awake from his slumber and told him to get dressed.

"America, get ready! Quick! The Prince is waiting in the garden, aru!" China shook the blond nation awake and continued, "The wedding is to take place in the garden, aru." He quickly ran to the closet and came back with a white dress. He threw it on the bed and went to the window to look out of it, "Put it on! Quickly now! ...Ah, we must hurry, aru."

America, still dazed, stared at China with confusion written all over his face, "Wait, what? What time is it?"

"It's almost 1 am. Now get dressed, aru."

1 am..._ 1 am!_ America almost fell off the bed; he was still in _Cinderella_?! He thought it would go away if he slept; that it would go away after a happy ending.

He stood up quickly and stared at China in shock, "I don't _want_to get married! And I'm certainly not wearing that dress." He scrunched up his face and went to the pile of clothes he had left on a table before he went to sleep earlier. He put them on and turned to China, who came back from the window in a hurry. He stopped for a second though, staring at America's clothes that he had worn yesterday, before shaking his head quickly, "Alright, aru. We don't have time anymore. Let's go," He took America's hand and quickly ran outside with him.

"Now, I trust you know what to do at the altar, aru." China said so quickly that America barely understood him. "You don't need to say anything until the priest asks you if you want to spend the rest of your life with Russia, aru. Then you answer 'yes' and he says 'yes' too and everything's done." He quickly gave America a bouquet of flowers, which consisted of mainly sunflowers and roses, and gave him a slight pat on the back.

Now, America wasn't a genius at weddings, but he was pretty sure, from what he'd seen in life, that weddings included rings and kissing. And America wouldn't have anything against this, if only it didn't include those things! He could say the words, because it wouldn't matter. Just so he could get out of this story already; it was beginning to get annoying.

America blinked rapidly when China thrust him up to the altar suddenly, Texas almost falling off his face. And then there was Russia next to him and people behind him and the priest in front of him and America suddenly felt very awkward. He didn't belong to weddings, just like he didn't belong to funerals. The two places he felt most uncomfortable in.

"America!"

Said nation turned to stare at the other person and he felt the air in his lungs disappear as he saw Italy in front of him, dressed in all white and holding a quite heavy-looking book. He blinked a couple of times at him, before he asked, "Italy, why are you here?"

"Vee~? Oh, I'm here to put you and Russia together!" He smiled a big smile, "Though, I thought the bride would come in a white dress, not a T-shirt and sweatpants... Am I missing something?" He cocked his head lightly.

"No, Italy, everything is perfect." Russia said, staring lovingly at America, "He's perfect..."

America rolled his eyes slightly at the other, but had to stop. Russia's eyes looked incredibly bright and wide tonight (or is it morning?). America didn't say anything, but just sighed and said, "Let's get this over with. I'm feeling hungry." The truth was, he had _never_ seen Russia like that. He wondered if the real Russia could smile like this too someday.

"Is that Germany's gift in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"

Then again, America wished he could just throttle this guy, scarf and all. But America stopped himself, when he remembered Germany's gift and he silently touched the small ball of paper in his pants, before he smiled and lied through his teeth, "Happy to see you I guess."

"...You have no shame." Russia laughed lightly.

"What's the point in hiding the truth?"

"..._Da_..." Though Russia's voice implied something else now, something besides the usual innuendos.

And the whole wedding, America occupied his mind with what could possibly be in that ball of paper. He took his mind off of it barely in time to say 'yes' to the whole audience, before he went back to thinking about it. He numbly felt something prod at his finger and he finally looked down to see a golden ring on his finger. Almost absentmindedly he put the other ring on Russia's finger, before he felt strong hands take a hold of him and squeeze him tightly.

"I'm never letting you go again!" Russia cried out and to America it sounded like he was near hysterics. America grunted slightly in pain, before Russia took a hold of his face (his hands were warm... Too warm for a cold bastard) and kissed him on the mouth.

America stilled, before something boiling burst in him and he pushed the other away. He succeeded with little trouble due to his sheer strength and he wiped his mouth furiously, before glaring at the smiling russian. He almost growled, "What the hell, commie-bastard?!"

Russia just smiled, a bit more warmly, and said, "At the end of weddings, the couple is supposed to kiss to show their union. We're a couple now, on to the next part! The honeymoon~!" He sing-songed into America's ear, before he scooped America up in his arms bridal style and started walking back to the castle. But the blond kept struggling and fighting viciously, so that Russia finally had to put America down, because America was _strong._ America huffed at the taller nation and muttered something along the lines that he could walk on his own.

The audience, which included every nation America knew and some he quite didn't, followed them, all the while cheering for the new couple. America smiled at them and threw the flowers into the sea of nations. Almost everyone jumped on it (Prussia stayed far away from the ravaging circle of nations), but the outcome was fairly surprising. It was Latvia who caught half of it, while the other half was caught by Korea.

"Wonder if they'll marry each other, or someone else..." Russia murmured silently.

"What?" America asked, not having quite caught that. The russian just smiled at him and led him to the castle. The nations were left behind, most of them having knowing expressions on.

America silently followed Russia in to the castle, finally taking out Germany's gift. He stared at the small ball of paper, almost the size of a small cherry, and slowly started to play with the edges, not quite wanting to ruin this moment of surprise by opening it hastily. He stopped though, when he felt Russia's hand on his, holding him tightly enough to stop what he was doing.

America blinked at Russia, who stared at him seriously, before he let go of America's hand. It looked as if he already knew what was in that paper ball...

America stared down at the ball again and with new vigor, he took the paper completely off. Now, on his palm, there stood a small cherry-sized blue ball of... candy? It must've been candy, because it looked like candy. America frowned at it, before he stared at the paper he had just taken off. A message stood there.

_Eat it._

And that was it.

He looked at Russia, who was staring back. The russian smiled softly and said, "Go on then, don't worry. I know you'll like it." His voice didn't sound cheerful in the very least and his tone wasn't implying anything for once, but he looked confident enough to make America put that small ball of candy in his mouth and chew.

-

-

-

This was a dream! It must be!

_"I miss you so much!" He sounded like he was near tears, "When will you come back? I'm sorry I ever blamed you for the recession."_

He could hear everything, but... he couldn't see anything.

_"Come on, the boy obviously wont come back before the next World War. Let's go."_

The voices, they were so familiar and yet... he couldn't quite place them.

_"Vee~? Maybe we should try making hamburgers? He liked them!"_

That was Italy! He was sure of it.

_"We need more sunflowers here."_

And that... was Russia.

_"Would all of you just shut up! ...He's lucky to be like this..."_

_"How the hell can you say that!!?" More than one voice shouted out._

_"No. Germany's right. Can't you see that he's resting. If he's resting, that means that he'll come back with more energy and health and we all might come out of it alive."_

The voices-- no, nations... were silent. America tried to talk, but there was something uncomfortable in his mouth, keeping him from talking. Plus, he felt really sluggish, making it near impossible to move or speak.

_"We could try... making his land and people a bit better. I mean, maybe he'll come back then, if his land and people are feeling better."_

_"...That actually sounds like a plan. Thank you, Estonia."_

_"Ah, but dear young Estonia is still so naive," There was some shuffling. "Because we are only the personifications of the nations. All of us are pretty much useless without our land, I agree, but we don't feel anything if an atom bomb suddenly came and hit the capital city. Same with the going around and helping everyone and everything. We're like immortal humans meant to live on our own lands. The only thing we could help America with would be to help his people out of the recession. But we have our own problems to worry about..."_

_"France, do shut up! That's the only thing we _can_ do at the moment and you're ruining even _that_ for us!"_

America felt sick; he didn't _want _help and he definitely didn't _need _it either. And for a moment, he stopped struggling to see something and talk to the others. But that cost him dearly as he felt himself slowly fall unconscious again, last thing hearing France and England fight, while Germany tried to break them up by screaming at them until they listened.

-

-

-

America woke up, feeling weak and sluggish once again. He had hoped it would go away, because in the last fairytale he had felt more... energized? Powerful? At the moment he felt like his brain was mush and his insides were made of ice-cream... Melting ice-cream.

He sat up slowly, thinking about what happened in his dream. Was it a dream even? It felt like it was, but for some reason he didn't really think so. And the way they were talking... it was as if America was dead! ...But that's not possible, so it's not true. A dream!

With a smile and new vigour America stood up. He walked around the room aimlessly for a couple of minutes; partly because he didn't recognize the room, and partly because he couldn't find anything awesome to wear. The clothes seemed like they were all from the middle ages in France, but at least he didn't have to wear any dresses this time; there just _weren't_ any dresses in the closets.

Finally, after a while, America settled for the loosest pants he could find, that were _still_ too tight!, (oh, the middle ages _sucked_ _badly_! Why had France liked it?) and a shirt(?) that reached his thighs. Feeling more than uncomfortable, he also added a brown cape on his shoulders, feeling more of a hero now. Maybe he was in Robin Hood? He hoped so, badly! Robin Hood had been an awesome story, plus the guy was good; a hero! Maybe he was Robin Hood?

Grinning to himself, America left his room and walked around the house(?) for a while. While the house looked good (more than good actually. Something more fit for a palace... Maybe it was, he didn't know) it looked completely empty, which made America frown. For a good ten minutes he was absolutely clueless on what to do, except walk around in circles. That too got boring after a while though and he decided to search for the kitchen. His face lit up in anticipation when he finally found it; finally he'd get to eat something!

He didn't waste time at the door and quickly ran to the cupboards to find food. With a growling stomach he felt like it was a dream come true when he spotted a hamburger on a shelf. Almost in tears he took the hamburger out and bit into it, already liking this fairytale.

"Oh, America, you're awake."

America blinked and turned to see who had spoken to him. He choked on his hamburger when he spotted Belarus staring at him. A small shiver ran down his spine; last time he had seen Belarus was in _Hansel and Gretel_ and there she hadn't actually been really good to him and Russia.

"Russia's not with me!" He blurted out, wishing Belarus would leave. He didn't want to get raped, like Russia almost did.

Belarus stared at him for a couple of minutes silently, before she asked slowly, "What are you talking about, America? Who's Russia? ...Have you gotten married behind my back, son?!"

"Married?! Son?!" America asked, feeling dread take over him. "I haven't gotten married...Well... anyway... and I'm your _son_?!" This story didn't look promising anymore.

"Don't you dare change the subject, America." Belarus growled, "You got married, didn't you?!"

"U-uhh... No?"

"..."

"..."

"...Well, I'll trust you for now. Anyway, are you hungry?" She asked sweetly. "I'll whip you something up. What would you like?"

"...Hamburgers?" He quickly finished the hamburger in his hand and stared at Belarus as she started to make hamburgers for him. He didn't feel quite comfortable with Belarus around, so he said, "I'll go outside. Call me when you're done, kay?"

"Sure thing, go have fun!" America shuddered at the happy tone and tried not to walk outside too quickly; it'd look suspicious.

Relief washed over him when he saw the bright sun in the infinite blue sky and the green garden. Feeling that something was out of place he looked back at the house... which didn't look like a house at all anymore. It looked like a palace, making America whistle approvingly. He grinned; maybe he was a royalty? Now that was something new.

He half wondered where Russia was in this fairytale, before he started wandering around the garden; which was pretty huge, even for a palace like this. Feeling excited to see more, he picked up his pace and almost ran around the garden in glee. He stopped though when he spotted someone behind the bushes. Someone with brown hair...

More than curious on who the other nation was (he was sure it was a nation. After all, he hadn't seen a single human since he got there.), he went closer and peeked behind the bush. He jumped back abruptly the next second though when his eyes were almost poked out with those large... scissor... things. What were they called again?

He stopped musing about that, when the person in front of him suddenly fell to his knees and started to apologize hurriedly, "Prince America, please forgive me. I was too careless with my bush scissors. Please don't punish me or my family!"

America frowned; was he really that cruel to other people? Or were these people afraid of the King? Who was the King anyway?

"Stand up, gardener. I do not intend to punish you nor your family." Wow, talking like a medieval guy was fun! America's excitement was replaced with confusion when the man lifted his head and stood up slowly. America was sure he knew the man, but he had trouble pinpointing who the other exactly was.

"I'm sorry, but... who are you?"

"People call me Turkey..."

America brightened up, "Oh, right! Turkey-man! How've you been? Where're Greece and Egypt?" It was weird seeing the other man without his mask.

Turkey grinned, "They're at home, I think. And I've been cool. Your father has been a mean betch lately though," he grimaced, "Told me not to use disrespectful language and all that shiz. Told me not to talk to you either... Actually, he told me not to talk at all." America frowned, "Now that's not really nice. Who's the king?" Turkey stared at America for a while, "You know... I know you're not really stupid and all, but I'm beginning to question why I think that... Iceland will be back tonight by the way. You're lucky to be his son." Turkey smiled sheepishly, "He's so nice to you."

America frowned lightly, but then covered it up with a grin, "Say, mom's making breakfast. Wanna come with me?"

"Uhh, I better not... Then again... Oh hell, yes!" He threw the bush scissors away and grabbed America's hand, running towards the castle, "I'm _starving_! I haven't had anything to eat for _days_now! Damn Iceland." He muttered something else, that America didn't quite catch, and then suddenly stopped at the castle door. He swung it open unceremoniously and led the way to the kitchen. He hesitated for a second at the sight of Belarus and then said, "Uhh, hi."

Belarus turned around quickly and glared at Turkey, until America grinned and said, "He's gonna join us for breakfast. Hope you don't mind, mom." Belarus' eyes softened a bit and she replied, "Of course not America. If that's what you want." She set the plate of hamburgers on the table and the two males sat down to eat hungrily.

Turkey finished first, because America's appetite was just bigger than his, and because the hamburgers filled him up more quickly than anything he had eaten so far. He stared at America for a while, trying to ignore Belarus' glare and the knife behind her back, and said, "Say, America, you gonna go find out what's behind The Bushes today?"

America looked up, curious, but before he could say anything, Belarus scoffed and said, "Oh please, there's _nothing_behind it. All of those myths are made up and ridiculous. Who would believe that there are ghosts there anyway?" America jerked visibly. His resolve to find out more about The Bushes faltered when he heard the word 'ghosts'. Though, he became interested again, when Turkey spoke up, "There may be ghosts there, but there could also be lots of gold there. And it's an adventure, hayir?" He winked at America, who grinned and asked, "Where exactly are The Bushes?"

"Hmm... I'll show you later, kay?" Turkey laughed and stood up, "I'll wait you outside. Eat quick!" With a final grin, he disappeared, leaving America alone with Belarus again.

Belarus narrowed her eyes slightly and said, "There's nothing there. There's no point in going." America swallowed and grinned, standing up, "I know, it's the adventure I want." He was too busy to notice how Belarus' eyes softened considerably for a moment. He quickly straightened his jacket and bid a farewell to Belarus, already running towards the front door.

Once outside, he stopped for a second, a bit surprised at the sight of Turkey wearing his white mask and... was that a hat actually?

Turkey grinned at his stare and asked jokingly, "Like what you see, America~?" America shook out of his reverie and chuckled lightly, "Naw, let's just get going. I want adventure!"

---

_Hayir?_ - No?  
_Da_ - Yes


End file.
